


Stories of the Second Self: Not Your Average Job

by John_Steiner



Series: Alter Idem [79]
Category: Urban Fantasy - Fandom, firefighters - Fandom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-05
Updated: 2020-02-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:14:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22568431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/John_Steiner/pseuds/John_Steiner
Summary: Madison Lancaster always knew what job he wanted when he grew up, but he's not your average firefighter. Nicknamed Maddy in the Norwood Fire Department, the phenomenon of Alter Idem turned him into an angel. Typically, assigned to a hose team, when his engine company comes to an apartment complex fire, his engine captain decides this time Maddy will be handling the quick search in the building. Looking up at the blaze, Maddy realizes why on seeing purple flames.Someone had an accident with magic, and Maddy is already missing the good ole' days of meth house fires.
Series: Alter Idem [79]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1618813





	Stories of the Second Self: Not Your Average Job

Snapped out of bed, I become aware in the following seconds that a fire alarm sounded. By the time I consciously register that I have my boots on I see that I've already tied them and had started buttoning up my uniform shirt. After four years, I've gotten pretty good at slipping a shirt on over my wings. I'm Madison "Maddy" Lancaster and this is Norwood Fire Department.

"C'mon Maddy," Captain Wight calls out from the hall. "We're waitin' on you!"

My time in the department is less than three years, but I knew from grade school this is what I wanted to do, which... I dunno, maybe explains why I got the wings. I hustle down the stairs, that's right no pole, grab my turnout gear and run out to the pumper truck that's in the bay furthest from the door.

As the pumper and rescue apparatuses roll out we get more updates on the network, and Wight calls out, "Got ourselves a two alarm fire, so get that turnout gear on."

The trucks pull up beside an apartment complex, and on reflex I jump out and trot to the back. Rolling out the one and three quarters hose line has become automatic for me. Though, with angelic upper body strength, it's also easier than ever. I get cracking on hooking up the first stretch of hose. However, today's no ordinary fire.

"Maddy, I want you for Quick-Search on this one," Wight tells me with a pat on my shoulder.

"Boss, I already got the one and three quarters ready to go," I say.

"No," Wight pulls me back from the apparatus and points up to the top floor. "Search For Life, today."

"Fuuuuck!" I draw out at seeing dark purple flames dancing out of two windows, and then shake my head.

"Yeah," an exasperated Captain Wight tells me.

Year Four, Alter Idem and two years after the federal occupation this is the new normal. Not only is this NOT the first time I had seen billowing purple flames, but all of us in the department even knew what had caused such a supernatural blaze.

Back in the day, fires in places like this were born from people cooking meth and getting sloppy. While that still goes on, it's been losing ground to a new generation of stupid, where people writing up and practicing untested spells is a thing.

I get my Self-Contained Breathing Apparatus on, do a radio check, and see Kennith Crow Horse come over identically equipped. He's an angel too, and in his hand he's Married the Irons. It means he has a Halligan Bar's straight pry fork wedged to the axe head, with the other end that has a bent pry fork and conical spike cradling the axe handle and a fluorescent Velcro strap holding them together.

Though, our SCBAs are seventy pounds, and our turnout gear another twenty, we both manage to fly up to the top floor of the fire escape. It's faster than stomping up the fire escape, and often safer. I've had to rescue civilians by doing para-drops using my wings as a parasails. It lets me circumvent the five-floor max descent rule.

From the right-hand window, which is spitting supernatural fire, I also spot the swamp cooler as we land. Unmarrying the Irons, Kennith hands me the Halligan. Looking down, while ensuring that the ground below the swamp cooler is clear, I see that our backup rescue team is standing by. It’s part of the Two In, Two Out Rule.

"Boss," I call on the radio, "I'm gonna dump this swamp cooler, so keep that spot open."

"Will do Lancaster," he calls out.

While Kennith goes to work on the window, I start banging and prying the cooler loose and knock it clear of the window. Below, another pumper crew has set up their hose line and is running hose for the interior attack.

Before I joined, it was common to see crews run the two and a half inch hose, thinking that the larger hose was needed in commercial fires, but a reevaluation in training had my generation of firefighters realizing that the smaller one and three quarters lines could still get adequate water through and be easier to wrangle.

Already, as Kennith has the window open, I can see that the flames spurt and flutter differently. That tells me the hose team has already changed the interior conditions enough to affect the fire's behavior. Part of the reason Kennith and I get the search role is because we're angels. He and I both lead in with our wings out before us.

See, as it turns out, our feathers can withstand and insulate from more heat than even our turnout gear. No one knows why, but that gave guys like us a leg up in the department. They even gave us a new design in turnout gear that has second sleeves for wings and is easy to get on.

Like Maltese Knights in a siege, we lead in with one of our wings up like a tower shield. Once inside, we drop onto our hands and knees, getting below the smoke and start looking around. Kennith goes to the right side wall, and I slap my hand on his ankle, as we follow that wall until finding a door.

He opens that, and we proceed to the next door and repeat our search. This time, we find two teenage boys and a scattering of books all over the floor. Kennith turns back at me, and we're both pretty sure this is the birthplace of the fire.

"Boss," Kennith calls on the radio. "Get the hose team to the top floor. The room is with the window just right of the rightmost fire escape window, as viewed from outside. Should be the third room from the top of the stairwell."

"Copy Crow Horse," Wight answers back, and the redirects. "You get that, guys?"

"Got'cha Boss," Stan's voice answers, "We're huffin' it up there now."

Kennith leads me over to the two coughing boys, and we guide them to the door. Keeping them in a crawl, we each put an arm over them and go back to the hall. I still have a hand on Kennith's ankle, and he occasionally sweeps the floor with the handle of his axe. The smoke's getting that bad up here.

Further down the hall, we can risk taking our SCBA masks off to offer the kids oxygen until they nod about feeling better. The hose team arrives and starts their interior attack. We take the boys through another room and out that window onto the second fire escape stairs on the adjacent face of the building. There's no need to fly them down, so I hold a kid's arm as we descend.

Captain Wight meets us at the bottom, but so too do civilians who immediately huddling up with and embrace the teens. It's not mystery that they're family, and from the scalp hair growing long from their necks, they're all werewolves.

I could've moved out of Norwood when it became a clearly howler-dominated city, but really, I'm still attached to this place. I might be in a different Pentacaste, but these are my people.

They say you can't save the world, but I'll be damned if I can't save my side of the street.


End file.
